look softens. "You'll figure it out. And I'm here to help, okay? You're not alone."
I know what she means, but aren't I? Alone?
I nod anyway, not wanting to get into this with her now. “Thank you.”
We catch up some more, or rather, Tara catches me up on her week and the people she’s met, stores and restaurants she’s visited, and whatever else exciting has been happening in her life.
I smile and nod at the right moments, happy for her, but also a little melancholy.
Your time will come, Harp. Smile. This sadness is temporary.
When we hang up later, the rush of relief I feel surprises me. It’s hard to keep up appearances, to pretend, especially with your best friend who knows you inside and out.
My phone buzzes next to me on the comforter.
An incoming message from Ryan.
When I click on it, a photo loads. My heart pounds hard against my rib cage as I wait, unsure of what to expect.
A text message pops up while the photo is still loading. Normally, the network isn’t this bad.
Ryan: I can’t believe this is the current size of our baby.
The download is finally complete and the photo fills my screen. At first, I laugh. Then I cry. Then both.
It’s a selfie of Ryan holding a blueberry close to the camera, his thumb and index finger looking like they might crush it in a moment.
My fingers flutter up to my mouth as I stare at the photo. At Ryan. He’s so handsome. With a hat backward on his head, he looks straight at the camera, his gorgeous brown eyes staring straight at me. Smiling at me. He looks . . . happy. And hot.
The magnitude fully hits me. I’m really going to have a child with this man.
The thought is still abstract, and probably will be for a while longer, but Tara is right, if I want to talk to him, I need to be an active participant as well.
And does the fact that he knows the size of our baby at seven weeks pregnant mean that he’s been researching all things babies and pregnancies like I have?
Only one way to find out.
Harper: Has Google turned into your new friend too?
* * *
Ryan: I’m afraid so. It’s a dark and scary place.
* * *
Harper: It can be. A lot of people have told me not to look up too much online, but I need information. I feel utterly unprepared.
* * *
Ryan: Same.
* * *
Ryan: How are you feeling?
* * *
Harper: Same as last week. Exhausted and hungry, but otherwise okay. Nervous about the first doctor’s appointment next week, but also excited.
* * *
Ryan: I hope you’ll get a new ultrasound.
* * *
Harper: Me too.
* * *
Ryan: Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got to go. We’ll talk soon, okay?
* * *
Harper: Sure
I stare at the unchanging screen for another moment before I succumb to the fact that it’s just me again. No more video calls, no more text messages. Not even Bacon wants to be with me, hiding somewhere else in the apartment instead.
There’s a flutter in my belly, and even though I know it’s probably an air bubble, I put my hand on my belly once more.
A sudden calm settles over me, because I won’t be alone for too much longer.
Seven months will fly by, right?
Nine
Ryan
My blueberry photo started an avalanche of random “pregnancy facts” messages between Harper and me.
Google has never been a better friend as I scoured online every day, bookmarking sites, while also getting lost in learning more about pregnancies and babies.
I'm officially obsessed.
And in awe.
The things a woman's body goes through during pregnancy and birth are mind-blowing. Why do people only call babies miracles? Women are whole miracle machines themselves.
Monday, Harper started out with, Did you know your heart grows bigger during pregnancy? My reply was, Apparently, so do your feet. She didn't find that fact very funny for some reason.
Tuesday, I followed with, Did you know your voice can change during pregnancy? Her reply was, Maybe I'll finally be able to hold a note? I smiled like an idiot when I read it and got some weird looks from the guys when I left the gym. But she’s funny.
Wednesday was Harper's turn. Did you know a woman's sense of smell heightens during pregnancy? Which I can already attest to, thank you very much. I've gagged more than once this last week when I had to deal with Bacon's litter box. And yes, I always wear gloves because apparently